


Wait for Me

by Stella_Elliot



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Dystopian Future, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Inspired by Hadestown, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24707761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_Elliot/pseuds/Stella_Elliot
Summary: Spring has finally returned to the world once again.But along with it, was the tragic story of what could've been. Don't look back was what Hades said, but he didn't follow.So here's the story, of Mumbo and Grian.And their journey down to Hadestown.(Heavily Inspired by Hadestown: The Myth, The Musical and the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice)
Relationships: Cubfan135/GoodTimesWithScar (Video Blogging RPF), Docm77/Xisumavoid, Grian/Mumbo Jumbo
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	1. An Old Song

The birds sang a sweet song above on the trees, singing the sweet melody of spring once again. He was like them, although he was down below, the leaves crunching underneath his feet with every step he took, but nevertheless, he was basking in the warmth of spring.

Spring indeed was a sweet relief. On the run was he on for so long, trying his best to out run the weather. Why try to call some place home when it will be destroyed?

But one day, he woke up with the trees lush and green, so was the grass beneath his feet. At that moment he knew that the world was once again in tune.

He packed his bags and set off to find a place to call home.

And where better than the place he once he once did?

That led him here, underneath the trees to return to his hometown. He almost forgot what it looks like from how long he hasn’t returned, and he hopes to see some familiar faces when he gets there.

He doesn’t know how long he was walking, but he finally reached the edges of a small town. He smiled to himself as he steps out of the woods. 

_Home_

There wasn’t many people outside, no people going about and repairing their broken down houses or business owners rebuilding their establishments. It was odd he thought. Spring has returned and they should take this opportunity to rebuild!

Nothing much changed since he left as well, old houses are still old houses but more—destroyed. And the long descending railroad track was ever more present outside the town, glistening from the sun.

He remembered that railroad track, twice a train goes to stop here every year. For the King of the mine to go fetch his lover, and for him to bring his lover back, for without the presence of his love, the world would surely perish.

He caught sight of an old, run down pub. It was the only building with light in the town and he can hear the busy murmurs and clinking glasses within it. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and made his way to the doors of the pub.

Before he could even open the door and enter, it swung open towards him, almost causing him to fall off the porch. He was about to snap at the person that almost knocked him over but was quickly replaced with a grateful smile instead.

“Stress?”

“Oh my god Scar!” The lady squealed in delight, quickly pulling him into a hug. He laughed at her antics but returning the hug nonetheless.

“How are doin’? How long has been like—four years? I’m surprised you even remember me!”

“Of course I would! It’s not like you are just something I could forget!” Scar laughed. “Is everybody else in there?”

“You bet ya’ beer they are!” Stress made quick work and pulled him by the arm into the pub, raising her glass and spilling beer everywhere on the floor. “Scar has returned!”

The townsfolk stopped chattering amongst themselves and cheered in response, doing the same as False before getting up and crowding around the pair.

“Scar where you been man? Kinda lonely without you here!” Impulse slurred, visibly drunk but managed to him him his own glass of beer.

“Could say the same to you too Impulse.” He chuckled as he happily cheered with the drunk man.

That’s all he did for a while, greeting childhood friends and catching up with them. Delightfully drinking beer and messing around, after a while, he decided to just sit peacefully in a corner with his thoughts, the absence of a specific person in the pub worried him. Everyone is here except—

“Scar.”

He jolted out of his thoughts at the interruption, his eyes travelling to the face of the man who intervened with his thinking.

“Xisuma.” He smiled, pleasantly surprised to see the god back on the face of the earth. “I see that you are back from Hadestown.”

Xisuma motioned to the seat in front of him in a silent permission, Scar immediately welcoming him to sit. 

“If anything—it was heartbreaking.” The man sighed, “Something happened while I was down there, but it’s not my story to tell.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Scar apologized. Whatever it was that happened with Xisuma down in Hadestown, he can tell it was something he would not speak about as hurt is evident in his eyes. 

He scrambled his brain to steer the topic away from Hadestown. “Say, do you know where Cub is? I haven’t seen him yet and I expected for him to be here.”

Scar could see the other man’s face drop and dread pooled at the pit of his stomach. “Oh my—you haven’t heard?” Xisuma’s voice cracked as he asked Scar. He didn’t want to be the person telling him this.

Scar gripped at the sides of his chair as his heart sank, “Heard what?” 

“He’s in Hadestown.”

“ _What?_ ”

“He’s gone, Scar. Doc offered him a choice and he took it.”

“Is there any way that I can bring him back?” Scar choked out, tears threatening to fall as his heart breaks into two. “I know there is I just haven’t found the right way yet!”

“Oh Scar,” Xisuma said softly, scooting his chair to the other side and pulled him in a tight hug. “Have you noticed anybody else missing besides from Cub?”

Scar pulled away, wiping his tears. He took a good look around the pub, everyone’s here weren’t they? He shot the god a questioning look, “Everyone’s here isn’t it? Stress, Cleo, Impulse, Tango, Joe and—“, his breath hitched at the realization, “Mumbo. Mumbo’s not here, where is he?"

Xisuma shook his head, “Like I told you, it’s not my story to tell.” He replied, “But why don’t you ask Iskall?”

The god pointed at another familiar—albeit dishevelled god, who sat hunched over the bar counter with rows and rows of glasses in front of him. He wasn’t sure if he’s seeing the same god that used to drink and cheer with them, how come he hasn’t notice him before?

“What happened to him?” He asked, looking back at the drinking god.

Xisuma jerked his head to Iskall direction in persuation, “Just ask him.”

Scar pursed his lips, unsure if he should intervene. He looked at Xisuma and he received a nod of reassurance. He sighed, standing up from his chair and making his way towards the bar, sitting beside the god that was still consuming concerning amounts of alcohol.

“Iskall,” He greeted softly, the bartender setting down a drink in front of him as well. “How you’ve been?”

“Not great.” Iskall sniffed, wiping stray tears that slips down his face as he takes another shot of beer. “A lot has happened while you were gone.”

Scar shifted in his chair uncomfortably, not used to seeing the jolly god this—depressed. He doesn’t know wether to push the topic, comfort the grieving god or just leave him alone to his own devices. But he did come here for answers. So he took a shaky breath and pushed out the question through his teeth, “I came to ask… Where’s Mumbo?”

“Ah” The god chuckled with no humour, another shot following. “You want to hear the story?”

His head cocked to the side, his curiosity piqued. “The story of what?”

_“The story of what could’ve been.”_


	2. Anyway The Wind Blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the story.

_”There was a hungry young boy, a runaway from everywhere he’s ever been. He was no stranger to the world, no stranger to the wind.”_

Grian pulled his coat closer to his body, trying to keep himself warm as a strong gust of blew by him. What he would do for some warmth at this moment, but he hasn’t seen any town or people for the matter in days. He wasn’t lonely, no, he was used to being alone that it settled right in him. But sometimes when he meets people, he will be able to trade or buy food to keep herself alive. And with spring nowhere in the horizon, he has to everything he can to survive.

Lost deep in his thoughts, Grian didn’t notice a stray root poking out of the earth, and his day just got better when he tripped on it and face planted onto the ground.

Groaning in pain, he tried to push himself back to his feet but his elbows buckled beneath him and fell onto the ground once again. He was so tired, he just wanted to rest, so he just laid there on the ground, not bothering to help himself up.

Out of nowhere, he felt something poke his back and he shot up at the intruder. He was expecting like maybe a wild boar that was checking him out or maybe a person with murderous tendencies or a cannibal who was checking out its latest dinner. It’s a weird out there and he had learned that the hard way.

Instead he was greeted by a man holding a stick with a surprised expression. He probably thought he was dead. Grian was grasping his bag close to his chest as he leaned against the trunk of the tree who’s root he has tripped on in the first place, panting as adrenaline pumps in his veins, is this guy tries anything, he can run as far as he can.

“Chill man, I’m not going to hurt you.” The man calmly, smiling softly at him despite his state. “I just thought you were injured or—dead.”

Grian didn’t budge, “Who are you?” he asked, still panting heavily. The man’s smile brightened and he stood proudly with his head held high at the question.

“The name’s Iskall.” The man replied with pride, “But you might know me in my different name.”

The stranger held out a hand to Grian, offering to help him up. This man seems trust-worthy, and how he speaks about himself, he might know him. He took his hand and pulled himself up, dusting himself free of stray leaves and weeds that stuck to him.

“Which is?”

“Hermes, messenger of the Gods.”

He froze. “Wait… Like the God Hermes?”

_Oh god he’s talking to God and he might’ve possibly just threatened one, Zeus strike him down now._

“The one and only!” The stranger who introduced himself as Iskall bowed dramtically. “What bring you here to this part of the world?”  
“Weather.” He replied simply, “Things are going horribly wrong in the west so I walked North. I was hoping to see a town or something but it’s been days but there’s nothing.”

The god slung an arm across his shoulder and for a moment he was caught off guard, he was not used to people being this close to him, let alone a _god_ being this close to him. “Well you’re in luck!” Iskall cheered, “There’s a town not far from here, that’s where I’m from actually. I’ll walk you there.”

Grian’s eyes widened at the offer, “N-No it’s fine I can manage on my own.”

“Nonsense! Like I said, I’m from there and I have to get back eventually. Besides, I’ll have to make sure that you won’t die on the way there.”

“Gee, thanks.” He replied sarcastically, what was he getting himself into?

They began their journey towards the “town” Iskall talks about, wishing deep inside that he hasn’t landed himself on a cannibal and was being willingly lured into a trap and he’ll be this man’s next dinner. He hasn’t met any gods until this moment so he wasn’t really sure if this man was really a god or just pretending to be one, and like he said, possibly being lured into a trap.

But the trap never came, which was unexpected in his case, it was almost kind of disappointing. The god asked him of his travels and they talked about why a god such as like him wasn’t in Olympus doing god duties. Apparently, he took a time off from Olympus and decided to stay here for a few decades especially since he has taken upon himself to take care of the son of a muse that was his friend. Iskall talked about that son for a while, saying that he plays the lyre and he’s a singer, his songs can bring any man into tears if he intends to and he can tell from the god’s expression that Iskall was proud of him.

It wasn’t long before they finally arrived at an old rundown town, it seems like the weather hit this place way back but the damage was still obvious, with planks of wood scattered around with buildings and houses heavily damaged or full on taken down.

But what piqued his curiosity was the long railroad track outside of town. It looked brand new and it was made of steel, it leads into a tunnel in a far mountain and he can quite see a faint glow within it as the track descends.

“What’s the track for?” He asked Iskall as they walked through town. “Where does it lead?”

“Those tracks leads to Hadestown. Twice a year, Hades himself boards a train to fetch his lover and after three months, Persephone boards it again to return for summer.”

“Hold on, Persephone is here as well?” Grian sputtered, looking around frantically at his surroundings for the goddess. Was he about to meet two gods in one day?! If he is, he doesn’t really know if it’s lucky or a straight up bad idea.

Iskall chuckled beside him at his panic, he leads Grian to a building with bright lights and the faint chattering of people is heard from inside. “For now, yes. Although he prefers to be called Xisuma up here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to, you’ll meet him anyways.” Iskall pushed the doors to the pub open and pulled Grian inside. He weaved through tables and drunken men, letting Grian sit by the bar and sliding some coins to the bartender. “A round for the young man, he’s come from a long journey.”

The bartender nodded in understanding and poured Grian a shot of whiskey. Grian held the glass in his hand, swirling the dark liquid around as he dives deep back into his thoughts once again.

Iskall gave him a sad smile before he left the man by himself by the bar. At the corner of the pub, he sees the young man he raised looking at his guest with strange fondness evident in his eyes. Oh he knows what was going on.

He laid a gentle hand on the young man’s shoulder, jerking away for a moment as he broke away from his thoughts. The young man felt blush creep its way to his cheeks as he looks away from Grian in embarrassment of being caught.

“You want to talk to him?” Iskall asked, slightly entertained by the thought of this man finally liking someone.

“Yes.” The man said breathlessly, his eyes fixing back to the guest that sat by the bar all by himself.

“Then go.” He encouraged. The man stood up all of the sudden and started to make his way towards Grian but Iskall grabbed his arm before he can go far.

“An advice Mumbo, don’t come off _too_ strong.”

Mumbo shook his head, “I won’t” He jerked his arms away from the god’s grasp and continued his journey across the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah three chapters in a day.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Mumbo has finally appeared as Orpheus and boy am I excited.
> 
> Love, Stella <3


	3. Come Home With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mumbo mustered some courage to ask an important question to this young man.

_”And then there was Mumbo. You might say he was touched by the Gods themselves, but he’s just a poor boy working on a song. And here begins the tale of Grian and Mumbo!”_

“Come home with me.”

Iskall’s facepalm can be heard across the pub as he said that. Godamnit Mumbo.

“Who are you?”

“The man who’s gonna marry you.” The man smiled, “I’m Mumbo.”

“Is he always like this?” Grian asked the bartender who was smirking at the pair. God what is going on?!

The bartender just shrugged, “More or less.”

Grian turned back to Mumbo, he’ll be lying if he says he’s not interested. “I’m Grian.”

Mumbo smiled at the introduction, he wasn’t being pushed away “Your name sounds like a melody.”

Ah, he now knows what is going on. “A singer,” Grian chided as he notices the guitar that is slung across the man’s back, turning his chair completely to face Mumbo as he leaned on the bar counter, “Is that what you are?”

Mumbo flushed a bit, having to bask in Grian’s full attention makes his heart race. He hasn’t done this before, he normally kept to himself and kept his mouth shut. But for whatever reason, this time with Grian—he really can’t help himself. “I also play the lyre.” He added proudly.

“Oh, a lyrist, _and_ a player too!” Grian chuckled sarcastically, “I’ve met too many men like you.”

“Oh no, I’m not like that.” Mumbo quickly defended. “I’m not like any man you have ever met.”

Grian took a shot of whiskey, the bartender quickly refilling it after he set it down on the counter. He’s too sober for this. “Oh yeah? Tell me what you’re working on.”

Mumbo hesitated for a moment, not sure he wants to share his work that he hold dear in his heart. But he has to prove to this man that he’s worth _something_. He took a seat beside the smaller man and he pulled out a small notebook from his back pocket, flipping to a page where he has stopped writing before. “I’m working on a song but it isn’t finished yet.” He explained, “But when it’s done and when I sing it, spring will come again.”

Grian choked on his whiskey at what Mumbo said. This guy can’t be serious! He hasn’t seen a single spring in—he can’t even remember! This guy can’t possibly bring it back with a song! “How? I haven’t seen a spring or fall since—I can’t recall.”

“That’s what I’m working on.” Mumbo smiled, “A song to fix what’s wrong. A song that can take something broken and make it whole. And it will be so beautiful, that it can bring the world back into tune and back into time. And all the flowers will bloom—

_when you become my husband.”_

“Oh, you’re mad. Why would I become your husband?”  
Mumbo sat there in thought, racking his brain for an answer to give. “Because I can make you feel alive.”

He felt his heart skip a beat at his answer, “Alive? That’s worth a lot,” he laughed, “What else you got?”

Grian took one last shot of whiskey and nodded at the bartender to take it away, now he needs to be sober for this. He should’ve probably thought of that before he kept consuming alcohol. He turned his full attention back to Mumbo with a sly smirk on his face. “Lover tell me if you can, when we wed, who’s going to buy the wedding bands in times like this?”

Mumbo puffed out his chest, this is his pathetic attempt to at least convey _some_ confidence at what he will say. “Lover when I sing my song,” He assured, “All the rivers will sing along, and they will break their banks for us and their gold will be generous, all for your hand. The rivers will give us the wedding bands.”

Grian was slightly impressed honestly, but he still seriously doubts this man’s claims about his songs. “Well then lover, tell me if you’re able, but who’s going to lay the wedding table?”

“Lover when I sing my song all the trees are going to sing along, they’re going to break their branches down to lay their fruit upon the ground. The trees are going to lay the wedding table.”

Mumbo stood up from his chair, holding out a hand for Grian to take. “Come on, I’ll show you something.”

He knows he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t. But something about this man piqued his interest and he wants to know more about him, and despite his mind protesting, his heart whispers to go with him. And it was so loud, that he takes Mumbo’s hand.

Mumbo smiled softly at the action, gently pulling him out of the bar and into the outside world. Iskall watches the pair leave, relieved that Grian did not reject his naïve son. He honestly thought that was going to end very badly for both of them.

He still hopes it doesn’t

* * *

The pair strolled through a dying forest, the cold quickly enveloping Grian. He rubbed his arms through his coat, trying to warm himself. Why did he think this was even a slight fraction of a good idea? Possibly the three glasses of whiskey. Mumbo takes notice of this, he slung an arm around the smaller man’s shoulder and pulled him close, trying to warm him up.

“So when you sing your song,” Grian sputtered, his teeth slightly chattering in the cold, “You can end all of this?”

Mumbo nodded, “I can.”

Grian looked up at him sceptically, “Why don’t you sing it then? Why not end it right now?”

“It isn’t finished.”

Grian tear himself away from Mumbo’s grasp no matter how much his heart craved to be back in his arms. “Sing it.” He simply stated, “You wanna take me home?’

“Yes.” Mumbo answered without hesitation. Grian smiled, “Then sing the song.”

It wasn’t indeed finished, he can tell. It was a simple verse that he caught a glance earlier when Mumbo showed him the notebook, a verse of a basic set of la’s, nothing fancy. But the moment he opened his mouth and sang, Grian was held captive by his voice. The winds shifted around him, he wasn’t cold anymore for that small moment while Mumbo was singing. Mumbo held out a hand and just as he ended his song, a single blood red carnation bloomed from his hand.

Grian was dumbfounded, “H-How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Mumbo shrugged, “But the song’s not finished yet.”

“Even so it can do this?” Grian stepped forward and gently took the flower from his hand, afraid that it might fall apart in his grasp. He looked back at Mumbo, who was slowly shrinking away from him, thinking that he might’ve done something wrong, his heart swelled with hope and infatuation. “You have to finish it!”

He dashed back into Mumbo’s arms who stumbled in surprise, but it was a pleasant surprise. “Lover tell me when we’re wed,” Grian continued, “Who’s going to lay the wedding?”

Mumbo smiled softly, “When I sing my song all of the birds will sing along, they will flying from all around to lay their feathers on the ground. And we’ll lay down and idle with a pillow underneath our heads, the birds will make the wedding beds.”

Grian sighed in contentment, you know what, this may not be a bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's horrible, it's cringy, but I just needed to post a chap before I go off the grid for a few days for an emergency. 
> 
> But even it's absolutely horrendous, I hope you enjoy this pathetic attempt of writing this.
> 
> Love, Stella 
> 
> P.S For those people seeing two notes, something's wrong and I don't know how to fix it.


	4. Living It Up On Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer is on its way.

_”On the road to hell there was a lot of waiting for the train to bring that man with the suitcase packed again. He’s never early always late, and these days he doesn’t stay for long, but I guess good things come to those who wait.”_

“What’s going on out there?”

Mumbo followed Grian’s line of view, also noticing the crowd of people gathered around the railroad track. “He’s coming back.”

“Who’s coming back?” Grian asked curiously asked. He never fully understand the purpose of the railroad track, or anything about the person that this track brings.

Mumbo just smiled excitedly before grabbing his hand and pulling him to join the crowd, “Come on I’ll show you.”

He let himself get dragged away from his campsite and into the blazing sun, joining the action of whatever was happening along the track.

Mumbo caught a glimpse of a familiar god in front of the crowd as he weaved his way through the people and finally catching the attention of the waiting god. “Is he coming back?” He panted, “Xisuma?”

“You can say that.” Iskall sighed, impatiently looking at his pocket watch. “He’s late <i>again</i>.”

“Who’s coming?” Grian piped up behind Mumbo, still not understanding what was going on.

“Summer is coming meaning, Persephone needs to return. But he’s late… Again. For once can he be on time?”

A loud whistle of a train echoed from afar, everyone turned their attention towards the sound. From the tunnel in the mountain, was a large, antique train quickly speeding to the end of the track. Iskall slid his watch back into his pocket, “Here he comes!”

The train slowed down to a stop, the crowd went silent for a moment as they waited for the doors to open asIskall grins in anticipation.

The doors slid open ever so slowly, revealing a man wearing armour and a helmet in one hand with a tired smile on his face as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Hello everyone!”

Iskall just let out an exasperated sigh, “And you’re late again!”

“Can you really blame me, brother?” The man laughed as he pulled the other god into a hug. In all honesty, Grian is still confused about all of this. He stood behind Mumbo shyly, watching the two gods interact.

Xisuma pulled away from Iskall, his gaze landing at the lyrist that stood behind. “How are you doing Mumbo?” The god gleefully asked, “How’s the song?”

“Still not finished, but hopefully it will be soon.” Mumbo replied, shaking the god’s hand that he offered him.

Finally, Xisuma saw the smaller man hiding behind Mumbo. He smiled warmly and took a peak at him, “Hello, I haven’t seen you around here before. What’s your name?”

“M-My name..? Oh! I-It’s Grian.” Grian mentally facepalmed. can he stop embarrassing himself for one day?

The god held out a hand, which Grian shyly shook. “Well, Grian it’s a pleasure to meet you. And I hope you’re excited for summer!”

The crowd cheered at his announcement, Iskall slung an arm around Xisuma’s shoulder and they all started walking back to town.

This… was going to be interesting.

* * *

“Who makes the sun shine bright?”

“XISUMA!”

“That’s right!” Xisuma laughed, “And who makes the flowers bloom in spite of his man?”

“You do!” The crowd cheered, raising their glasses in the celebration, spilling beer and whiskey everywhere.

“And who doing the best he can? Me that’s who. Now some may say the ain’t the way it used to be, but lemme tell something what my momma said to me; ‘You take what you get, and you make the most of it’, so how are we living it?”

“Living it up on top!” Another round of beer was passed around for the celebration of incoming of summer, the fruit got ripe and the flowers blossomed; And for a moment there, the world came back to life!

Iskall raised his glass, “Let the poet bless this round.”

Mumbo took a glass of his own that was being passed around and hopped onto a table, raising his glass towards Xisuma, “To the patrionist of all of this, Xisuma. Who has finally returned to us with enough wine to share, and asking nothing in return. Except that we should live and learn to live as brothers in this life. And trust that he will provide. If no one takes too much, there will always be enough and he will fill our cups. And we will always raise ‘em up, to the world we dream about and the world we live in now!”

“Here here!” The crowd bellowed before taking a long drink from their glasses and continuing with their celebration.

Meanwhile, Grian in a corner by himself, not interested with drinking tonight. It was a very interesting few days ever since Iskall has stumbled upon him. Met two gods and was now being courted by a lyrist, something he never expected that will him. He was just—so used to just living for the sake of living, and being so alone and now… someone wants stay with him.

“Hey.” Xisuma jerked him out of his thoughts before taking a seat across from him. “What are you doing? You should be celebrating with the rest of us!”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Grian refused politely. “Lost in thought I guess.”

Xisuma sighed, “I know something is bothering you, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know really,” He shrugged, “Everything is just so—different here.”

The god felt some pity for the man, he knows that he has been through a lot. He can tell with how his brows furrowed with thought and how his posture stays rigid. The man refuses to let himself trust others, even if that others was the god of agriculture himself. He can’t really blame him, he does have a part at the fall of the world around them. “Where have you come from, Grian? I’m curious of your travels.”

Grian hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to tell the god what was going on. “Strange things happen to the world these days.” He sighed, “In the east they got a hurricane, and the west is blowing up in smoke, that’s why I went here actually.”

Xisuma was taken aback, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know—“

“It’s fine, I understand. Rough marriage and all, I can’t really blame you. After all the years I have travelled, I learned that people turn on you just like the wind, there’s no point in trying. In the end, you’re better off alone.”

“Don’t you get lonely?” The god asked. Grian shrugged, “It is, but I’m used to it.”

“What about Mumbo?” Xisuma nodded towards the poet that was a conversation with Iskall, “I heard what went on the other day.”

“Honestly I don’t know. He is such a sweetheart, but—I don’t know! I don’t know what to think, what to do or anything!” He groaned before slamming his forehead onto the table.

“Give him a chance will you? He really needs to have someone in his life, a lot a like you.” Xisuma smiled before standing up, “Enjoy the party.”

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely LOVE musicals especially Hadestown that was inspired by the greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. So I recommend all of you to listen to the soundtrack to get a better feel to it.
> 
> Also if you know this myth--
> 
> You know where this is going.
> 
> Love, Stella


End file.
